Casa de Ark
by Annilus
Summary: Clarke is the new manager at a boarding home housing Bellamy, Octavia, Monty, Raven, Jasper, and Harper. Kooky hijinks and rousing roughhousing ensue! AU Bellarke
1. Chapter 1

"Dude, you're a freaking weirdo. Banana and peanut butter, I get. But Mayonnaise? That's just gross, man."

"Uh, whatever, dude. Bananas and mayonnaise go together like grilled cheese and peanut butter."

"Grilled cheese and–that's it. I'm done. I don't think we can be friends anymore."

Bellamy watched in disbelief as his coworkers argued over sandwich combinations as the theme for today's business meeting. He was trying, he really was, but he hadn't realized the job title of 'business manager' was really just a fancy term for a babysitter.

"Hey, screw you man. Until you try it, there's no way–"

Bellamy slammed his hands together with a thunderous clap. "Enough!"

Jasper and Monty looked at him like he'd gone crazy. Hell, he probably had.

He exhaled and looked at the two men pleadingly. "Look, I know this job allows for a lot of free time, but is half an hour of work too much to ask for?"

Monty and Jasper furrowed their brows at each other before nodding in agreement.

"Alright fine, we'll get to work. But for only _exactly_ thirty minutes," Monty said.

Bellamy shook his head and sighed. "I'll take what I can get."

He walked past his coworkers as they high-fived and made his way to the second floor's balcony for a smoke.

* * *

Clarke laid her head against the window, watching the rivulets of water struggle to find its path down the glass. A single drop defied the oppressive wind, snaking insistently downwards. She closed her eyes and focused on the steady staccato of rain, drowning out her mind.

The car jerked, causing her to steady herself against the soft, warm body next to her.

"Sorry, Wells. That was a big turn, huh?"

Her Samoyed gave a big, panting grin in response. She wrapped her arms around his belly and mouthed "I miss you" into his fur, snuggling deeper into the comforting heat of his body.

"Clarke, we're here."

The car pulled to a stop in front of a large, well-worn log cabin – a boarding home for delinquents, as Thelonious would say affectionately, though its official name was the Ark. The cabin sat in the middle of a spacious lot, front yard spattered with oak trees and a tall stone wall around its perimeter with a large, intricate black metal gate in the center. The cabin rose to two stories, a balcony wrapping around the second, with a bluish clay tile gabled roof. There was a dormer in the center of the roof displaying an old clock, though it's long since stopped telling the time.

"It's gotten better with age," Clarke said.

Thelonious' eyes crinkled as he smiled. Wells' would have done the same. "I'd like to think so. Now, let's get you introduced to the tenants."

He exited the vehicle and she did the same, pulling Wells and a single suitcase along with her. Side by side, Clarke and Thelonious pushed open the gate to the Ark. She unclasped Wells' leash and he took off like a bullet, likely excited by all the heavy smells of their close-quarters with nature.

"So, some things you'll want to know before you're officially the manager," Thelonious began as they made the trek up the stone steps to the entrance. "First, I just want to reiterate: it won't be an easy job. You'll be in charge of grown men and women living in close quarters. If they think you're a pushover, they'll make your job a living hell. The previous manager left – hightailed it out of here really – precisely for that reason."

She felt a nervous knot settle in her stomach. She hadn't even babysat before – was she really ready for such a responsibility? What if they saw her as weak, chewed her out immediately, and made her run for the hills?

"Secondly, I know you've had a tough six months; it's why I recommended this job. Living here...I really think it'll help. At the Ark, you'll always be busy. You'll have no time to dwell on the past. The residents will frustrate and annoy, yes – but more importantly, they'll keep you company."

She could certainly use company; she had never felt more alone than in these past six months. She would welcome frustration and annoyance – anything was better than emptiness.

"And lastly...well, welcome to the Ark, Clarke."

He gave her a warm smile and reassuring squeeze on her shoulders before leading her inside her new home.

* * *

Bellamy blew out a billowing cloud of smoke as he leaned against the balcony fence. A thick pine forest, a pearly blue lake, and a Marlboro red always calmed him down.

He checked his watch – it'd been fifteen minutes since he'd left Monty and Jasper, which meant they'd be getting into trouble soon.

"Jasper, stop! Give it back!" a woman's shrill voice erupted from the hallway.

And there it was. He took a few more moments to enjoy the pitter-patter of rain and fresh piney air before snubbing out the cigarette.

* * *

Clarke stood inside the entrance of the Ark, watching a blonde woman chase a brown-haired man up, then immediately down, a flight of stairs. He jumped the last two steps and zoomed past, laughing the whole way. She had to give it to him; the guy was agile.

His sock-covered feet slid to a stop on the polished wooden floor some distance away. He turned his head slowly, surprise etched in his face. The woman promptly caught up and tackled him to the floor.

"Hah! Got you, you slippery bastard. Now give me back my underwear!" she said as she straddled the man at his waist and held out her hand. He ignored her, instead pointing towards Clarke and Thelonious. She followed his hand and her grin quickly faded. "Oh, um...hi, Mr. Jaha. Didn't uh...didn't see you there."

Clarke let out a giggle at Thelonious' sternly set mouth paired with a single eyebrow raise.

"Clarke, this young lady is Harper, and the boy beneath her is Jasper," Thelonious said. "They live in room two-oh-two and one-oh-two, respectively. Harper and Jasper, this is Clarke, your new manager. Please, avoid tackling her if possible."

Clarke schooled her face in mock seriousness. "Nice to meet you two. It looks like we'll have a lot of fun together – though I'd personally prefer if my underwear stayed in their rightful place." She grinned at Jasper's now completely-red face and Harper's under-the-breath amen.

"Yo, what's with all the ruckus?" sounded a voice from the top of the stairs. "Actually, a better question: what's with the lack of ruckus?" Another man walked down the flight of stairs, this one of similar shape and size as Jasper, though his hair was jet-black and more straight than messy. He descended halfway down the stairs before going stock still. "Oh. That's why."

Thelonious hadn't missed a beat. "Clarke, meet Monty. He and Jasper are bound to cause you a lot of trouble." He looked pointedly at both Monty and Jasper. "He lives in room one-oh-one, next to Jasper. Keep an eye on these two."

Clarke smiled widely. Trouble was good. Trouble was distracting.

* * *

"Oi, Monty, get the fuck back up here! You promised me thirty minutes!" Bellamy shouted, heading towards the staircase. "You too Jasper, stop chasing tail and get your ass back on the computer."

He found a wide-eyed Monty in the middle of the stairs, gesturing to come down.

Bellamy reached Monty, turned, and froze; like out of a bad romantic movie, a beautiful woman had appeared out of nowhere. The curl of her pink lips, the bright emerald of her eyes, the blonde hair that fell over her shoulders, the way she looked at him like he was an absolute weirdo – shit. He picked up his jaw, slapped his brain into gear, and tried to salvage his reputation.

* * *

"Who's the princess?" asked the man standing before Monty, his leery gaze turning cocky.

Clarke rolled her eyes. Great, one of those men. Probably thinks he's being charming. She gave him a sickly sweet smile, channeling her annoyance at his admittedly handsome face. Sure, he had cute eyes – so dark she could get lost in them – and nice hair – wavy, messy charcoal that would definitely tangle if she ran her hands through them – but he was still a jerk.

Thelonious cleared his throat, displeasure clearly showing at the man's callous statement. "This is Clarke, your new manager. I expect her to be treated with the respect she deserves."

He looked to Monty and scoffed. "Who's the uptight old man?"

"Uh, that, Bellamy, is Mr. Jaha, the landlord of the Ark."

Bellamy's eyebrows rose as he realized his mistake. "Oh, uh, shit." He made his way down the stairs to shake Thelonious' hand. "Nice to meet you, sir. Sorry about, uh, calling you uptight."

Thelonious let out an accepting grunt in reply. "Yes, nice to meet you too, son."

Bellamy shifted his outstretched hand towards Clarke, which she shook with a slight hesitation. "Didn't expect the manager to be so...young."

She imagined him punctuating the statement with an eyebrow-waggle and snorted. "Not interested."

"Who said I was?"

She raised a skeptical eyebrow, holding in a snicker when he averted his gaze and blushed.

"Right, well, back to work, yeah? Jasper, get up from under Harper – and give her her panties back man – and get back upstairs. Monty, you too. Let's go boys, chop chop!" Bellamy marched back up the stairs, dragging away a waving Monty by the cuff of his shirt.

Harper stood up, still blushing, and Jasper scrambled to his feet. He muttered a "nice to meet you" as he ran for the stairs. He threw the lacy black panties over his shoulder, which Harper caught before running up the stairs as well, letting out a meek "nice to meet you, too" as she passed by.

Clarke shook her head in disbelief while Thelonious just shrugged, which both worried and excited her; just what exactly was in store for her at the Ark?

"Well then," he said, "let me show you your room." He led her through a door at the end of the hallway that had the word 'manager' on it in gold plating. The room inside was completely furnished, and tastefully at that.

"Your bedroom is behind that door there, next to the living room. There's also a door that leads to the porch, just between the bedroom wall and the kitchen." She followed his hands, noting the locations he'd pointed out. "I'll be back to check up on you in a couple days, make sure you're settling in okay."

He stuck out his hand, but she rounded him with her arms and gave him a tight hug. He grunted before returning the embrace just as firmly. "You'll fit right in, Clarke. You're just as mischievous, if not more."

She crossed her arms and smirked. "At least I'm not a panty thief."

That earned her a laugh. "I hope not. Don't let them corrupt you."

"Oh, stop. I'll be fine."

"I know. Take care, Clarke." He left with a small wave over his shoulder.

Clarke got to work unpacking her suitcase, the bedroom her first stop. As she put away her clothes into the generous walnut wardrobe and matching dresser, she came across a picture of her and her husband, Wells, smiling with Minnie Mouse at Disneyland. She placed the picture on the bedside table.

When she had finished unpacking, she headed out onto the porch. Wells bounded out from behind a tree, no doubt having marked his territory, and laid on the grass before the steps.

She sat with Wells, watching the sun dip below the horizon. She lifted a hand to scratch under his ear as the other rubbed his belly; that always made him happy. "You're gonna love all the new friends you'll make. There's Jasper, Harper, Monty, Bellamy, and even more we haven't met yet."

She grinned impishly. "Though you might not love Bellamy."

* * *

Bellamy leaned against the second floor balcony's fence, a lit cigarette held absently between his fingers. He made it a habit to always catch the sunset, as it was absurdly beautiful – except tonight, his attention was elsewhere.

Clarke sat on the steps of the porch, petting her big fluffy dog. He marveled at the way her blonde hair took on the deep orange of the sunset, the pale nape of her neck that begged to be kissed, the the strip of lower back that teased at more.

A distant voice in his mind reminded him of his decision to look for a new place to live – to leave the Casa de Crazy – but a different voice, a much more overpowering voice, begged him to stay. For her, which was so absurd that he couldn't help but silently scoff.

He heard his name, the dog bark, and Clarke giggle. The hell was that about? She got up and looked behind her – and right at him.

"Bellamy?"

He took a final drag of his cigarette – it reached the filter already? – before snubbing it out.

"Hey, princess."

She huffed, her face flushing. "My name's Clarke, not princess."

He rolled his eyes with an exaggerated flair. "Sure thing, princess."

Damn, that glare was scary – but amusing.

"Don't make me come up there and kick your ass." The fire in her eyes made him believe she'd do just that. He smirked as the threat played out in his head.

"While I'd love to see you try, I can't be up all night rough-housing."

Her face had the word 'seriously' written all over, clearly not impressed with his clever wordplay. And then an evil grin broke out as her eyes lit with mischief.

"All night?" She bit the corner of her lips and pinned him with a hooded gaze. "You wouldn't last ten minutes."

He paused for a few moments, rolling the words over in his mind. Now _that_ was unexpected. He struggled for a retort, his brain barely functioning as it overloaded with entirely inappropriate images.

"Wouldn't you like to know!" he called after her lamely as she sauntered back inside the Ark.

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks for reading! This chapter was beta'd by HedaBeka, props to them for all the help. I wrote this half a year ago, I've got a couple chapters written and some more chapter ideas, but I stopped working on it and didn't want to post this until I had more chapters done. In the end, I caved, wanting the sweet sustenance of reviews to hopefully rev me up and get me writing.**


	2. Chapter 2

Clarke sat on the steps outside, broom in hand, basking in the fresh morning sun. She'd gotten up early to start on the checklist of duties she'd made, the first being sweeping the front steps of the recently fallen Autumn leaves.

She gathered the piles of leaves into a garbage bag and was about to head back inside when she heard a voice call out "hello?" from behind her. Turning, she saw a scantily-clad brunette, hair mussed and makeup slightly smeared, barefoot with heels in hand. She couldn't help but grin at the sight; the walk of shame had claimed another victim.

"Hi. I'm Clarke, the new manager of the Ark. It's nice to meet you," Clarke greeted, walking over to shake hands.

The brunette narrowed her eyes in reply, clearly sizing her up. She shifted her heels to her other hand and returned Clarke's gesture. "Raven. I'm going inside. Haven't slept for twenty-four hours."

Before Raven could take her first step, Wells bolted out from behind the house and leaped at her. She stumbled backwards and fall to the grass with a loud yelp, Wells atop her prone body, licking at her face.

"Hey, off boy!" Clarke commanded, though she couldn't keep the mirth out of her voice. It was an extremely silly sight, seeing her hefty Samoyed soaring through the air and landing on the minute brunette. She pulled him off of Raven while letting go a giggle at the incredulity on Raven's face.

"W-w-when in the _hell_ did we get a _dog_?" Raven sputtered and skittered away from Wells.

Clarke, still giggling, had to take a moment to gather herself. "I'm sorry. He's mine. His name is Wells, he's really a sweetheart – he loves making new friends."

Raven got to her feet and eyed Wells warily before giving his head a hesitant pat. "Sorry, Wells – not much of a dog person."

Wells barked in reply and Raven recoiled her hand like it'd been bit. She shook her head and muttered to herself as she climbed the stairs to the Ark.

Once Raven had left, Clarke wrestled Wells to the ground and began rubbing his belly. "You silly dog. Don't scare away all the residents, you hear?"

Wells barked in agreement.

* * *

Bellamy woke to the sound of his cellphone's alarm. That meant Jasper and Monty must still be asleep, the resulting relief making him laugh.

He then remembered why he'd set his alarm for eight on a Saturday; Octavia had slept over at her friend's house.

He dressed in a hurry as he rang Octavia's number.

"Hello?" came a groggy voice from the receiver.

"Octavia? Where are you?" he asked frantically.

"Ugh – _it's my brother_ –"

"Who's that you're talking to?"

"Nobody. What do you want?"

"To know where you are."

"Why?"

"Octavia..."

"Ugh, fine. Just a sec." The line went silent. He imagined Octavia walking over the passed out bodies of teenagers on the floor after a night of drinking and debauchery, and his temper rose.

"Octavia. Are you there? Hello?" His voice rose in volume with each word as he paced his room restlessly.

"Hey, shut up in there, will you? I'm trying to sleep!" he heard Raven shout. He ignored her and left his room, heading down to the first floor.

"Okay, um, I'm at – _what was that?_ – okay, it's thirty-two Monroe road." Octavia's voice came out muffled, and Bellamy had to confirm the address again to make sure.

"I'll be there in half an hour. Don't go anywhere."

He heard a faint "Take your time" and the dial-tone quickly followed.

He reached Monty's door and knocked.

"Monty, wake up! I need your car." There was a loud groan in reply. "I'm coming in," he warned before entering the room.

Monty groaned, covering his head with his pillow when Bellamy turned on the light. "Dude, go away."

"Where's your car keys?" Bellamy asked, already searching the room for the black dongle.

"Not here. Jasper took the car already."

"Fuck! When did he take it?"

"I dunno man. Like an hour ago?"

Bellamy rubbed his forehead in annoyance. He really needed his own car. He turned off the lights and left the room, racking his brain for an idea of how to get to his sister.

He ran into Clarke near the entrance.

"Whoa there, slow down," she said, concern showing at his disheveled appearance. He certainly must be a sight, with his bed-head and scrappy clothing. She, however, looked adorable: her hair was pulled up into a ponytail, and she was dressed in a black floral shirt under jean overalls that cut into shorts – her working-outside clothes, probably.

"Hello? Earth to Bellamy."

"What?"

She gave him an exasperated look. "I _asked_ if something was wrong."

"Oh. Nah," he replied, but decided to elaborate when she arched her eyebrow in disbelief. "It's my sister, Octavia. She's stuck in town, at a...friend's house."

"Need any help?"

He sneered. "Well, unless you had a car, princess, then no."

She drew her eyebrows together and pursed her lips. "No need to get snippy. And for your information, I do in fact have a car. _And_ I'm willing to share, if you stop being such an ass."

Bellamy raised his eyebrows. The princess had a car? Of course she did.

"Alright then, prin–err, Clarke. I'll take you up on your offer."

She squinted at him for a few seconds before nodding and walking back towards the entrance. She turned to look back when he didn't follow – he was too busy watching her butt wiggle in those short jean shorts.

"You coming?" her voice lilted as she smirked, a single eyebrow raised. He gulped and quickly nodded.

How did this woman affect him like that? It was frightening.

* * *

As Clarke made a left turn into the street that the sign had told her was 'Monroe Road', she hazarded a glance at the man sitting next to her. He had his chin in his hand, elbow leaning against the car door as he looked out the open window.

The drive had been awkward to say the least, with her attempt at smalltalk falling flat on its face. He seemed reluctant to tell her anything about his sister other than that she was being a pain in his ass, and any inquiries to his past resulted in the shortest possible answers. Where are you from? Here. Where are you parents? Not here. How old is your sister? Eighteen. At least that answer was useful, even if it was just one word.

"Are you mad about last night or something?" she asked, watching him out of the peripheral of her vision. He turned to look at her, eyes scrutinizing.

"No," he replied, looking back out the window. Well, that was disappointing. She was sure she'd get more than a one-word response after that pause he'd given her.

"Well what's up with all the one-word answers then?"

Didn't he understand she was just trying to get to know the people she now lived with? And it's not like _she_ was the one being an asshole. What was his problem?

He gave her a look that said he was just as irritated. "Ever think it's because I just don't like you? Or are you just too used to being treated like a princess?"

The dam in her mind that held her back her anger overflowed. "Seriously? Here I am, helping you out, driving you to wherever this tramp of your sister spent the night, when _you_ were rude to _me_ right from the beginning, and _I'm_ unlikable _?_ " She grew angrier by the second. "And what the fuck is up with your stupid nickname, princess? Is that your way of trying to act more mature than me? Because trust me, buddy, it ain't workin'."

She huffed, taking a turn to the right as the road ended. She had no clue where she was going, but she wasn't in the mindset to care.

"Take that back," Bellamy said darkly, pinning her with a stormy look.

"What?" That's all he had to say?

"What you said about Octavia. Take it back."

She looked at him incredulously before it dawned on her. "Oh. That she's a tramp? Well, _sorry_ , but maybe if you told me a bit more about her when I asked, I would've called her lovely instead."

He continued to glare at her for a few more seconds before resuming his previous position. She nearly threw her hands up in surrender.

Bellamy was simply impossible.

* * *

Bellamy stewed in his thoughts as he looked out the window, watching for house thirty-two.

Clarke was a bitch. He knew he was being irrational, but he couldn't help but hold onto those four words. He wanted to convince himself of them, in an attempt to make them true. He wasn't even sure why. Either way, the words were beginning to take hold, and he relished in the anger that coursed through him.

It probably didn't help that his sister had been out all night, and that Clarke's words had got to him. The idea that she'd been with a boy – it left a really bad taste in his mouth, and he just wanted to bust down the house's door, march in there, and drag Octavia out kicking and screaming. And maybe lay the kid out for good measure.

"Here," he growled when he spotted house number thirty-two. Bellamy was out of the car and heading towards the door as soon as Clarke pulled to a stop.

Bellamy knocked as loud as he could, bellowing his sister's name. The door opened to reveal a muscular shirtless boy rubbing at his eyes.

"You Octavia's brother?" the boy asked sleepily. Bellamy just shoved the kid out of his way.

"Octavia, get down here!"

"Dude, what the fuck is your problem?" The kid got in Bellamy's face, giving him a shove backwards. Bellamy raised his fist, about to retaliate, when he saw Octavia run down the stairs. The moment he looked away, he felt a fist pummel into his face.

Bellamy heard a voice cry, but his ears were ringing and it was hard to determine whose it was.

He tuned out the voice, focusing only on the boy who'd punched him, adrenaline coursing through his veins.

The boy hesitated at whatever the voice had said, and Bellamy swung his fist in a wide arc, landing square on the kid's nose. He felt the bone break under his knuckles.

The boy stumbled backward and fell to the ground, holding his hands to the bloody river coming from his nose.

He felt a body crash into his own and little fists bang against his chest.

The ringing in Bellamy's ears began to dissipate as the world came back into focus. He looked down into his sister's eyes. He steeled his gaze, grabbed Octavia's hand, and lead her outside to Clarke's car.

"What the fuck, Bellamy!" Octavia yelled, struggling against his grip. "You're hurting me!"

He immediately let go.

They reached the car and he opened the back door. "Get in."

He wiped away the blood that leaked into his eye.

"You're a fucking psycho."

* * *

Clarke turned to look at the person that had slipped into the backseat. His sister, judging by the resemblance to her brother. She also shared his pissed off look.

The passenger door opened and Bellamy sat down, body slouched and facing away. She flicked her vision from the side of his face to the house. "Uh, Bellamy? Why is there a man with a baseball bat coming towards us?"

"Shit! Clarke, hit the gas!"

Bellamy turned to face her, and she gasped at the sight of the deep gash over his left eye.

"Go!" The guttural rage in his voice made her shiver.

"Hey you fucking kids, get out here right now! You broke my son's fucking nose!"

Clarke needed no further encouragement as she floored the gas pedal and peeled away from the sidewalk.

"What the hell happened?" she asked shakily as she sped down the street, glancing in her mirror to see the angry father still running after them. Thankfully, he was no longer in the race.

"He punched me, I broke his nose," Bellamy replied as he motioned to the blood pouring out above his eye.

"Right, I think I gathered that." Clarke opened the glove box and gave him a bunch of tissues, which he used to partly stifle the bleeding.

"My brother's a psycho," the girl in the back piped up, crossing her arms and glaring disapprovingly at her brother. "That's what happened."

Clarke looked pointedly at the man in question. "Yeah, I gathered that too."

"Whatever. He hit me first."

Clarke just responded with a hum, figuring there was more to this story than he let on, but she decided not to push. If the previous car ride was any indication, Bellamy was in no mood to talk. She looked into the rear-view mirror, caught his sister's squinting gaze, and smiled. "Hi, by the way. I'm Clarke."

"Octavia," she replied. "You his girlfriend or something?"

Clarke snorted as Bellamy went into a coughing fit. "Definitely not. I'm the new manager at the Ark, actually."

"Oh, cool," Octavia said, turning to look out the window, chin in hand. The resemblance really was uncanny.

The drive home only took fifteen minutes – minutes Clarke felt with every second. When they reached the Ark, she blew a sigh of relief. Bellamy was out the car as soon as she'd parked, making a beeline for the safety of home. She knew how he felt – she wanted to get as much distance away from the situation too. Not that she was going to let him go without an explanation. Also, that cut looked pretty bad; she'd need to check it out.

Clarke jogged after Bellamy, managing to reach him at the steps.

"Bellamy, wait." She grabbed his arm, causing him to turn and look at her. "Let me take a look at your eye."

She saw the gears turn in his head as they both glared menacingly at each other – a battle of wills, which she didn't often lose.

He sighed. "Fine."

"We're going to talk," he said to Octavia as she brushed past him and into the Ark.

"My room has a first-aid kit. Let's go." Clarke walked to her room without looking back.

* * *

"So the princess is also a doctor."

Bellamy yelped when he received a sharp pinch in response.

"Don't harass the person with the needle." Clarke glared at him as if she was annoyed, but her smirk said otherwise. "And I'm not a doctor. I went to med school, but I didn't finish."

Bellamy nearly did a double take at that. "Why?"

He realized how unfair it was that he wanted to know more about her past when he hadn't told her his, but he couldn't help his curiosity.

Clarke raised an eyebrow. "Because," she replied curtly, emulating the way he'd acted in the car, chin in hand and everything.

Bellamy laughed at the display. "I deserved that one."

Clarke only quirked her lips as she focused on finishing the stitches.

"Okay, all done," she said, snipping the thread. "Try to avoid getting into any more fights – doctor's orders."

"Thought you weren't a doctor," he replied, giving her a wink.

She poked his arm with the needle.

"Ow!"

"I warned you."

"I'm an injured man!"

"You're an idiot who got into a fight."

" 'Least I won."

"Sure, and now you've got the scar to prove it."

He grinned. "It is pretty bad ass, isn't it?"

Clarke rolled her eyes. "Totally not my point."

"But you were thinking it."

She held up the needle, eyes promising pain, and he immediately backed up to the door. "Okay, okay, I'm an idiot and I won't fight again."

"Pinky-promise?"

He eyed the sharp silver object in her hands. "If you drop the weapon."

She shook her head. "Big baby."

Clarke put away the needle and Bellamy walked over, clasping his pinky with hers.

He smiled deeply, genuinely; she did the same. There was tension, a spark connecting, jolting his heart. He saw himself in her eyes – he loved that. Wanted to see that more. His arms twitched, finger pulled away, and he drew nearer.

She pulled away.

She was breathless, averting her eyes.

She felt it too. It scared her too.

"So, guess I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Y-yeah. My sister, too – she's waiting. Well, probably not waiting, but–" He was rambling. "Bye."

Reaching the door, he quickly shuffled out.


	3. Chapter 3

"Everyone understand the plan?" Jasper asked, looking to Monty, Raven, Octavia, and Bellamy, receiving nods from all but Bellamy. "Bellamy? Bellamy!"

"Huh? What? What is it?" Bellamy shot up from his bed, looking confused.

"Dude. Were you really just sleeping?" Jasper laughed. "You're like an old man."

The look of derision Bellamy gave him made Jasper shut up quickly.

"Wait! I take it back!" Jasper squeaked and hid behind Monty when Bellamy got to his feet.

"Dude, why are you hiding behind me?" Monty yelped, hiding behind Raven.

Raven rolled her eyes. "Seriously?"

Bellamy pressed his hand to his forehead and rubbed, feeling a headache coming on. "You guys..." Raven shared with him a look of exasperation.

Octavia piped up, "So...guess I'll fill you in, then. Old man." She grinned at his glare. "We're gonna throw Clarke a welcome party. You know, get her drunk, learn all her dirty secrets – figure out who she really is. I mean, seriously, why is someone as young as her working as a manager in this dump? Seems fishy to me."

Everyone nodded their assent in unison, though Bellamy had his reservations. He felt uncomfortable with their goal to air Clarke's dirty secrets, even if he was just as curious. However, if he wasn't there to control the gang...he didn't have much of a choice but to tag along.

"Fine," Bellamy said, "but we're not doing it in my room."

Monty left his hiding spot from behind Raven, looking smug. "That's okay, because we're doing it in Clarke's."

Bellamy raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "Really? Did you ask her?"

Monty's noncommittal shrug confirmed his suspicions. "If she says no, we'll do it in your room." He hid behind Raven again."Err, I mean, we'll do it in my – no – Harper's room!"

And since Harper was not present for this meeting, she had no say. Bellamy sent a silent apology to the unaware girl as he grunted his compliance.

* * *

Clarke was curled up on the couch, absently watching the news. The amount of free time she had was disappointing – with the way Thelonious went on, she was sure she'd have no time to herself.

Maybe she should invite the tenants over; she could cook dinner, make a party of it.

She was halfway to her door when she heard the sound of knocking. She opened the door to find Jasper standing behind it, still in mid-knock.

"Ms. Manager!" he yelped. "Wow, you're fast."

Clarke laughed. "I was just on my way to find you, actually. I was thinking of having everyone over for dinner."

Jasper's jaw dropped. "R-really? Great! Let's do it! I'll go, uh, inform everyone."

Well, that was quite the reaction. "Um, sure, that'd be really helpful, thanks. Does six sound good?"

"Six it is! We'll be there. I'll go assemble the forces. Hi-ho silver, away!"

And with that, Jasper took off with what might be described as a gallop.

What a strange, strange man.

* * *

Bellamy laid on his bed, playing with his phone, as Jasper listed off items from his checklist for the party.

"Monty, moonshine?"

"Check!"

"Octavia, shot glasses?"

"Yup."

"Raven, time?"

"Quarter 'till six."

"Bellamy, suave?"

"What does that even mean?"

"It _means_ , are you, y'know... _suave_?"

"Uh...yes?"

"Great! Everyone remember their roles?"

"Sir!"

"Yup."

"Sure thing."

"What?"

"What do you mean what? Your _role._ You're gonna seduce Clarke, make love to her, and in the afterglow you'll interrogate her."

"You're...joking, right?"

"Bellamy, you're the only one who can do this! Unless...Clarke's a _lesbian_. Hey, Raven-"

"Jasper, I swear to God-"

"Alright, alright! No need to get violent. We'll scrap the seduction technique. But if this mission ends in disaster, it'll be on your head."

"Tragic. Let's just get this over with."

"But there's still twenty minutes."

"Then hand me some of that moonshine."

"Pre-gaming. I like your style, Bellamy Blake."

* * *

It was nearing six, and Clarke had just finished laying out the the food for the party. She wanted to make a good impression, and while she's not an especially good cook, she felt she did a pretty good job.

Now all that's left is to wait...

 _Knock knock knock._ "We're here!" rang out Monty's voice from the hallway.

Right on the dot! It's good to know the tenants are punctual, at least.

"Just a sec!"

She made some final mental checks and took a deep breath – it had been a while before she'd hosted a party – before opening the door.

"Welcome! Please, come in," Clarke said, her best smile on display.

"Thank you," replied Jasper with a winning smile of his own. "Oh, and here – I brought some wine."

He handed Clarke a bottle of liquid that definitely did _not_ look like wine, but she accepted it gracefully anyways.

Jasper, Monty, Octavia, Raven, and Bellamy all filed in, exchanging light pleasantries as Clarke motioned them to take a seat at the table.

"I'm sure you're all hungry, so I made plenty. Don't be shy!"

"It looks delicious! My thanks, dear Clarke, for this wonderful spread of delicacies." Jasper made a motion as if to tip an imaginary hat, while Monty grunted in agreement as his mouth was currently stuffed full of food. The others took it as a sign to dig in, and began filling up their plates.

* * *

Bellamy was forced to sit directly opposite of Clarke, per the evil plan of the gang. He was supposed to make small talk and...'woo' her, though oddly enough he found he didn't give a damn about the plan. So instead, he initiated his own plan of eat as slowly as possible and keep an eye out on things, make sure the gang didn't get too crazy.

"So Clarke," Jasper spoke around a mouthful of food. "How are you liking the Casa? Anything or any _body_ you particularly like?"

Of course, things wouldn't go so smoothly with Jasper and Monty running the show.

"It's been great so far! You've all been really welcoming. After all the...stories I'd heard, I was a bit worried, but I think Thelonious was just exaggerating."

Raven snorted aggressively, resulting in her choking, coughing, and sputtering on her food.

"Oh god, are you okay?" Clarke got out of her seat to give Raven a hand, though she waved her away, still coughing uncontrollably.

"I'm –" _hack_ "o – " _wheeze_

"She's okay," Monty smiled disarmingly as he whacked Raven's back with his palm. "She has trouble digesting food sometimes."

Clarke sat back down tentatively, still looking concerned at Raven who was starting to recover with just the occasional hack. "I – I see. If you need to use the bathroom–"

"So, Clarke," Jasper interrupted. "Have you gone to town yet?"

"I have, actually," Clarke replied, tearing her eyes away from Raven. "With Bellamy, actually."

Jasper's eyes lit up. "Really? Tell me more!"

Bellamy groaned. He did _not_ want to hear this story from her perspective.

"Well, it wasn't anything special, really." Clarke looked at Bellamy with a smirk. "We just picked up his sister from her _boyfriend's_ house."

Bellamy slammed his hand on the table. "That was _not_ her _boyfriend!_ "

Monty gasped. "I didn't know Octavia had a boyfriend!

Clarke's smirk widened further. "She even stayed the _night_."

Everyone at the table gasped, even Raven who'd finally recovered.

Except Bellamy, who rose angrily from his chair. "Let's get something straight here, she is not –"

"Oh sit down, idiot brother," Octavia cut in, sighing in exasperation. "I'm not dating anyone."

Bellamy, red-faced, sat back down. "Damn right," he grumbled.

"Sorry, my mistake," Clarke said, smiling sweetly at Bellamy, who glared in return.

"Well that's boring. Hey, let's all have a drink! To celebrate, uh...Octavia not having a boyfriend." Jasper poured everyone a shot of 'wine' and handed them out.

Bellamy immediately raised his and nodded in agreement.

Clarke stared at the cowboy-themed shot glass in front of her. "Wine in a shot glass?"

"It's hip," said Monty as he raised his glass.

Clarke shrugged and raised her glass as well, clinking it with everyone. "To Octavia being single!"

"Cheers!"

Clarke took the shot, and teared up immediately afterward. "W-what in the hell was in that thing?!" she sputtered.

Jasper burped loudly. "Ninety-proof wine."

"Ninety-proof – what in the–"

Raven laughed, pouring herself another shot. "Welcome to the Ark."

"Gimme another one o' those," Bellamy slurred.

"You guys are" _cough_ "having _another_ one?" _burp_ "oh _god._ " Clarke turned red.

"Hell yeah we are!" Octavia cheered.

"You're _not_ ," Bellamy slurred sternly.

"Of course not, brother," Octavia assured him as Raven poured her a glass.

"Let the party begin!" Jasper declared, grabbing the bottle from Raven and taking a swig.

Monty grinned, pulling out a flask of his own. "Finally."

Clarke moaned in despair. "What have I gotten myself into?"

* * *

Clarke had never been this drunk. Ever. She was sure of it. She had to be at a new level of drunk. There's no other explanation for her current situation otherwise.

"Clarke, left hand on red! Come on!" Bellamy urged, struggling to maintain his inhumanely twisted body position.

"I can't! I'll fall!"

Bellamy groaned. "Clarke, you can do it. I believe in you. This is your moment. Everything leading up to this was just preparation. You can't fail here. You were meant for this! And besides, we can't lose to those _buffoons!_ "

"Argh!" Clarke mustered all her strength and courage and pulled her left hand out from under Bellamy's right leg, stretching it to its limit to reach the red objective. Letting out a fierce war cry, she broke past her physical limits and focused her entire mind on one single purpose: winning this game of Twister. She could feel herself entering the zone, and the entire world darkened around her – all she could see was a lone red circle.

And her pinky was on it.

"You did it! You did it! We won!" Bellamy cheered, and she felt herself being picked up into a hug.

She did it. The thought brought Clarke immense relief, and she broke out in laughter along with Bellamy as he spun her around in celebration. She looked into his eyes and could see how proud he was of her, and it sent tingles down her spine. Even after putting her down, they continued to look into each others' eyes, and she felt herself pulling closer.

"Oi, idiots! It wasn't over! There was one more spin to go!"

And the world came crashing down around her.

* * *

"Mind if I sit here?" Bellamy asked Clarke as he collapsed on the couch beside her.

Clarke moaned, feeling sick to her stomach. "Sure, whatever."

"You okay?" Bellamy, surprisingly, looked concerned.

"Probably not. Think I'll be puking, either tonight or tomorrow."

"Woo! Nailed it! Eat it, suckers! I'm the best in the world!" Monty screamed at the top of his lungs.

Clarke groaned, covering her ears."God, do they ever _stop?_ "

Bellamy scoffed. "They're usually worse. Think they're toning it down tonight, in respect for you."

Clarke searched his eyes, trying to ascertain if he's being serious. "You're being serious."

"Yup."

"How have you _survived?_ "

"You get used to it."

Clarke snorted in disbelief, though she couldn't stop herself from smiling. Maybe it was more than she'd ever ask for, but if this was how the Casa de Ark really was, then...well, it'll certainly be distracting. Not to mention...

* * *

Bellamy couldn't help stop himself from smiling. Clarke just looked so...cute, right now. So carefree. So easygoing. Adjectives he'd never thought he'd use to describe her.

Sitting there with her, bantering with her, laughing spontaneously with her, it all felt so right. And he couldn't push away the fierce desire to be closer to her.

Closer.

 _Closer._

Her smile faltered, she turned her head away, she sat up straight and shifted subtly out of reach.

"Well, I'd better go to sleep, it is _way_ past my bedtime." She stretched her arms and yawned.

She stood up, turned to him, and gave him a small smile. "Goodnight, Bellamy."

His mind raced through excuses that would make her stay; he found the perfect one, and replied with a small smile of his own. "Goodnight, Clarke."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** I'm glad to hear you guys are enjoying it! Hope you enjoy this chapter as well.

* * *

Clarke was really starting to settle into the Ark. The residents are a bit out there, and she liked that. Made the job interesting. And they're good people, really–

A man threw open the front door, shoved past Clarke, growled "Outta the way, blondie, I gotta piss," and booked it up the stairs. Clarke stared after him, dumbfounded.

"Hey, John, long time no–"

"Outta the way, nerd, I gotta piss."

"Wait, Murphy's here? Hey Murphy, where ya–"

"I _said_ I've gotta _piss_!"

 _SLAM_.

Footsteps came down the stairway, and a laughing Monty and Bellamy came into view.

"Classic Murphy."

"Sure is."

Clarke still stood there, dumbfounded.

"Hey Clarke!" Monty said. "You look confused. Is it my shirt? It is kinda weird, but my mom bought it for me, and I haven't done a wash, so this is my last–"

"Shut up man, nobody cares about your shirt," cut in Bellamy. "She's confused about Murphy. First time meeting him, right?"

Clarke, overcoming the shock of being shoulder-checked by an angry man and being called blondie, _blondie,_ she _hated_ that nickname, it's so patronizing, and stupid, and annoying, and she already hated that brutish idiot's guts–

"Earth to princess?"

Bellamy stood before her, smirking his stupid smirk. She hated that nickname, too. She hated his guts, too. Clarke crossed her arms, tapped her right foot, closed her eyes, inhaled and exhaled heavily, put on the meanest mug in her arsenal and leveled it at Bellamy.

"I hate all of you."

She turned and stomped back to her room.

* * *

Bellamy stared after Clarke's rapidly retreating back. That girl had a serious power walk. She's probably the type to put on track clothes and power walk around the block. Hell, might be what she's planning to do now. Certainly needed the stress relief. Maybe he should talk to her.

"Whoa, if looks could kill..." Monty said. "You don't think she meant me too, right?"

"Hmm? Yeah, probably, bud." Bellamy smacked him on the back and went after Clarke, who had just opened her door.

"Hey, Clarke, you alright?"

She slammed the door in response.

Bellamy knocked. "Clarke, come on, open up. Is this about Murphy? Don't worry about him, he's a dick, that's just who he is. You'll get used to it."

And...silence. He knocked again. "Clarke, this isn't very mature. You're the resident manager here, you've gotta be the mature one. Keep us boys and girls in line. Gotta have a thick skin. You've shown me a good face back there, real scary, you should use that."

Still nothing. Maybe he should just leave her alone.

Nah. He knocked some more. "Hey, if you need to relieve some stress, this area's pretty good for jogging. Or powerwalking, if that's what you're into. There's a nice lake nearby that–"

The door swung open and revealed Clarke, hands on her hips, face like someone crapped in her coco puffs. "Oh, my god. Would you just shut up already?"

Bellamy leaned against the wall and put on his most disarming smile. "Come on, princess, don't be like that. I'm just trying to help."

She crossed her arms and glared; looked at her feet as she tapped them; threw up her hands as she sighed. "Fine. Half an hour."

"Half an hour?"

"If we're gonna go jog, I need to change." She looked him up and down. "And so do you. Half an hour."

"Alright...half an hour. See ya then?"

She gave him the cutest smile he'd ever seen. "See ya then."

The door closed, and Bellamy had to take a second to clear his head before heading back to the stairway. Monty was there, pacing.

"Bellamy! Finally. We're gonna be late for the meeting."

Bellamy shrugged and tried his best to look apologetic. "Sorry, I've got something to do. Go without me."

"Wait, what? Bellamy, this is important for the company! Jasper's gonna screw it all up if you're not there!"

Bellamy clasped Monty's shoulders, looked him hard in the eyes, and nodded. "You guys can handle it, I believe in you."

"What? No! We can _not_ handle it! That's why we hired you! What if Jasper spills coffee on the business dudes? What if Jasper falls asleep? What if Jasper breaks his arm? What if Jasper breaks _their_ arms?"

Bellamy climbed the stairs to his room as Monty continued to ramble behind him.

* * *

It _was_ a beautiful day. And the scenery _was_ really pretty. Clarke decided she would get back into jogging, do it daily like she used to. Not just the exercise, but the heavy sun, the floral scents, the quiet rustling of leaves–

"Clarke, slow down! Are we running a marathon? Shit!"

The wheezing of an annoying brat, all brought her a deep satisfaction. She kicked up the pace a bit and smiled. A break might be nice, but she wanted it to be in a really good spot. And while all around her were good spots, they weren't the _perfect_ spot.

"I'm dying. Clarke, please stop, I can't..." Bellamy's voice faded away.

What a crybaby, he'll be fine. She hit a turn, slowed her jog. They'd only been going for an hour and he was _dying_? She wasn't even going that fast. Clarke peeked behind her; just gravel, grass and trees. She came to a stop and took a minute to catch her breath. He _was_ the one who suggested this whole thing, after all; he could at least enjoy it. She decided to wait a couple more minutes – he'd probably just slowed to a crawl, the lazy bastard.

She found Bellamy some ways back, drenched in sweat and gulping in air like a fish out of water. "You alright there, buddy?" Clarke crouched next to him and caught his eyes.

"Need–" _gasp_ " –water."

Wow, he really didsound like he was dying. "Did you not bring any?"

He shook his head.

Clarke sighed. "'Course not." She passed him her water bottle, and he gulped all of it down. "Bellamy! Did you have to drink it all?"

He wiped his mouth and handed her back the bottle. "Life was on the line, Clarke. You'd have done the same."

"Oh please, you don't need to drink half a litre of water to rehydrate. And after an hour of jogging? Is this your first time doing exercise?"

"Geez, Clarke, sorry I'm not a freak like you. You were basically sprinting!"

"I was _not!_ "

Calling her a freak, the nerve! She even came back for him! Ungrateful little – should have just left him behind! And now she _had_ to stop, with no water! Clarke stood up, took a deep breath, and walked towards the trees.

"Wait, where are you going?"

Clarke ignored him.

"Clarke, you can't just walk into the forest like that. You don't even have water! Clarke? Clarke!"

Clarke raised her middle finger in reply.

* * *

Bellamy, pacing his room, checked his watch: nearly six pm. Clarke should be back by now. He went downstairs, knocked on her door, called out her name, entered her room...still gone.

Shit. Shit shit shit. She was lost. Are there bears here? There's probably snakes – or wolves. He'd heard howling before...he needed to go find her. He packed four water bottles, a flashlight, some snacks, and a pack of cigarettes into a backpack. He wouldn't go unprepared – Clarke's life depended on it.

He bumped into Murphy before the main doors.

"Whoa man, slow down. What's up with the backpack?"

"It doesn't matter, I'm in a hurry."

Bellamy tried to push past him, but Murphy didn't budge. "Hold on now, I'm curious. What can't you tell your best bud?"

Bellamy shot him a glare. "We're not _best_ _buds_. Get out of the way, Murphy."

Murphy scoffed. "Or what? Gonna beat me down?"

Bellamy clenched his fists. "Don't test me."

"Whoa, alright there bud, no need to get violent." Murphy held up his hands and shifted out of the way. Bellamy shot past him, resolute on accomplishing what he'd dubbed Operation: Save Clarke.

 _Bark!_

A large ball of white fur knocked over and pinned Bellamy to the ground and began licking his face. "Off, off!" Bellamy sputtered, crawling backward and pushing the dog away.

"Bark," repeated the dog as he sat on his haunches and panted. Bellamy kept his guard up, unsure of what the animal would do next – but as he stared into the dog's eyes, he felt like he understood.

"Wells, right?"

"Bark!"

"You wanna help me find Clarke?"

"Bark, bark!"

Bellamy grinned. "Lead the way."

* * *

"Where the fuck am I?" Bellamy yelled in frustration. He was completely lost – the stupid dog went chasing after a rabbit or something, and hadn't come back. Now he was gonna die, lost and alone in the middle of the woods. And he had big plans for the weekend, too!

 _Crunch._

Bellamy whipped around, trying to find the source of the sound. "Who's there? Clarke?"

 _Crack._

"This isn't funny, Clarke. If it's you, say something, alright? I'm already scared shitless here, no need to–"

"Boo."

Bellamy screamed, turned, and punched his attacker in the face.

"Ow, fuck dude, that hurt!"

Bellamy grabbed his foe by the collar and raised his fist for a jaw-crunching left hook. "You'll never take me ah–oh...Murphy?"

"Yes, it's me, you crazy fuck!" Murphy pushed away Bellamy. "You actually hit me."

"Yeah I hit you, asshole – and I'll hit you again!" Bellamy lurched forward, trying to get a hold of Murphy, but he ducked away.

"I was just messing around dude, calm down! I knew you'd get lost going into the forest so late, so I came to help."

Bellamy blushed. "What, like you know where the fuck we are?"

"I know these woods like the back of my hand," Murphy gloated. "You're looking for the girl you keep screaming about, right? She probably went to the lake nearby." He gestured to follow before turning and walking deeper into the woods.

Bellamy hesitated, then decided to go along with him – it's not like going in circles was any better. His stomach growled, and he opened his pack: a half-bottle of water and a pack of cigs were all that's left. He drained the bottle and threw it over his shoulder, then lit a cigarette and took a drag. "This guy better not be fucking with me."

* * *

Clarke woke, not realizing she had fallen asleep. What time was it? She checked her phone: seven pm. A three hour nap – she couldn't resist the tranquilizing effect of an orange-over-blue horizon.

She yawned. "I better get back. Can't have the tenants running wild. Literally running, wildly." She groaned at the thought of those drunkards and lunatics. "I suppose they're not all bad." Bellamy popped into her head, and she grinned. "Just some of them."

 _Bark!_

Clarke saw a flash of white fur barreling towards her. "Wells?"

"Bark!"

"Wells!"

Clarke crouched and opened her arms for the Samoyed, who accepted her invitation gleefully and with a lot of licks. "Why aren't you at home, Wells? Were you worried about me?"

"Bark!"

"Aw, sorry I worried you." She scratched behind his ear before standing up. "Did you come alone?"

"Bark." Wells moved towards the forest, then stopped and looked back at her. Clarke nodded, and followed his lead.

* * *

"I'm not surprised the dog ditched you – could you walk any slower?"

"Shut up, I'm tired and thirsty. Still no lake, by the way – likely you were just talking out of your ass," Bellamy grumbled.

"Oh yeah? Then what's that?" Murphy stopped and pointed towards a more sparse spread of pine, and a hinting blue glow spread in-between.

Bellamy took off in a sprint. "Clarke! You here?" He frantically looked for a sign of her; his flashlight revealed only the lake.

 _Bark!_

Bellamy froze as the patter of four feet quickly came closer, and he braced for impact.

"Heel, Wells, heel!"

A woman's voice – he shined his light towards the sound.

"Clarke?"

"Bellamy?"

"Clarke!"

"Bark!"

Bellamy ran towards her and pulled her into a tight hug. "I thought you were dead!"

"Why would you think I was dead?" Clarke laughed and patted him on the back.

"No, it's just – I uh..." Bellamy parted from Clarke and laughed nervously.

The sound of clapping echoed nearby. "Aw, what a touching scene," Murphy said as he approached from the edge of the woods. "I'm so glad the hero got to save the princess. Though if you ask me, I'm the real hero here – Bellamy would be bear shit by now if I hadn't saved him. Where's my hug?" He held open his arms and smirked.

Bellamy blushed, then went cold. "There's no bears here though, right?"

Murphy laughed, then stuck out his hand towards Clarke. "You must be Clarke; you were the one I passed by in the Ark, right?"

Clarke shook his hand. "Nearly bowled over, actually," she said sweetly. "Hope you didn't piss your pants."

Bellamy snorted; Murphy glared. "I didn't – no thanks to you. Stay out of my way next time."

Wells growled and bared his fangs at Murphy, and he backed up. "Alright, I see I'm not wanted here. A thank you would have been nice, but I'll leave you two lovebirds to find your way out." He turned and made his way back into the forest.

"That guy really is a dick," Clarke said.

"Yeah, he is. He means well though...sometimes."

Clarke grinned. "So...you came to save me, huh?"

"Uh, well, you know – hey, we should get back to the Ark before it gets any darker." Bellamy started to walk away, but Clarke grabbed his arm.

"You were worried about me?"

She squeezed; her mouth held a hint of a smile, the emerald of her eyes glistened. His heart thudded; a mixture of discomfort and warmth rose in his stomach. "I mean, you're our manager, and if you went missing...not to mention it was kinda my fault, so..."

Her face fell. "Oh. I see." She let go and punched him in the arm.

"Ow!"

She smirked. "If I was bear food, it _totally_ would have been your fault. Dick." Clarke turned and started walking towards the trees, with Wells leading the way.

"Hey, I'm sorry, alright?" Bellamy said as he followed behind. "You're the one who went into the forest alone anyway, so you're partly to blame. And it's not like there's bears in here...right?"

Clarke raised her middle finger in reply.


End file.
